


Gwilym Lee x Reader - Nadolig Hapus

by gingersnaptaff



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Happy holidays I guess?, I mean it is for Gwil at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersnaptaff/pseuds/gingersnaptaff
Summary: You give Gwilym a present on Christmas Day… A very smutty Christmas present, that is.





	Gwilym Lee x Reader - Nadolig Hapus

It is silent. The room is enveloped in darkness and you can feel the comforting heat of Gwilym next to you, warm against your back. He is curled up beneath the covers, strands of hair covering his face, and mumbling every so often in his sleep. You’re breathing quietly, trying not to wake him, staring at him looking ever so peaceful and the moon’s glow highlights his cheekbones through a chink in the curtains.

You can hear the soft beat of his heart, placing a hand on his chest to feel it and Gwilym groans as you run your fingers teasingly down his chest, stopping to pull back the covers and continuing downwards to take his cock into your hand. His member is stirring against your touch, twitching as it feels the heat of your skin and Gwilym moans gutturally, low down in his throat.

“What’s all this?” He moans and his voice is groggy with sleep. His eyes are half open and his gaze, from what you can make out, is bleary with sleep.

“A present,” You say, laughter tingeing your words, “It’s Christmas morning.”

Gwilym huffs out a breath, running a hand through his hair to try and arrange the strands into something more presentable before twisting around a little to stare at the red lights of the clock on the nightstand.

“Oh Jesus,” He mutters, flopping back down onto the cushions, exhaling loudly to voice his displeasure. “So it is.”

You hum in agreement, raising an eyebrow at your boyfriend’s sudden hatred of Christmas.

“What’s wrong, Gwil? Why are you so upset that it’s Christmas?”

“Because we’ve only got five minutes before everyone else wakes up for me to give you your present.” There is a shit eating grin on his face, he wiggles his eyebrows up and down, and you laugh, trying to quietly chuckle into your hand.

“You’re such a dork.” You say, smiling fondly once the laughter subsides.

“Yes, but I’m your dork.” He says in a serious tone.

“That’s very true.” You say, pecking him on the lips, your hand is working the shaft of his cock up and down in slow, tickling strokes.

He whines quietly, it’s so deep and in the back of his throat that you could mistake it for a growl but you know better. His hips buck involuntarily and there is a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

You give him a little smile and he huffs out a breath, trembling with need.

“Please-” He sobs as his cock leaks pre-cum over your hand. You can smell the salty scent of it and see the sweat on his brow as you lean in to kiss his forehead.

“It’s alright.” You whisper, “I’ll let you come in a moment.”

“Cariad,  _please,”_ His voice is high and strained; you can hear the subtle crack in his voice as he fists his hands into the sheets, a whimper in the back of his throat.

You give him a smile, a little simper that, in any other situation, would make his heart melt but he just glares at you, whining high and long, desperate for release.

“Shh baby. It’s alright.” You soothe, pressing kisses to the curve of his neck.

Gwilym shivers and his eyes are blown with lust. He huffs into your neck, you skin feeling clammy with the heat of his breath, the scratch of his stubble, and a shiver rolls down your spine as he presses kisses into your neck and down towards your collarbone. Gwilym draws you closer to him to ease the intense sensations that are currently wracking his body, as your hand jerks him off with slow strokes. You can feel the wetness of pre-cum coating your hand, the salty tang of it in the air as your boyfriend gasps and squirms against you. The mattress squeaks out a rhythm as Gwilym thrusts into your hand and you place sweet kisses on his forehead, peppering his nose with some too, making him giggle.

“Baby,” he whines, voice heavy with need, “’M gonna cum.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” you say, nibbling on his ear and making his hips buck again. He swallows audibly and you can see him straining, desperate for you to stop teasing him and go faster. His eyes are shut in pleasure and there are frown lines adorning his face, an indicator of how  _desperate_ he is for release. “It’ll be over soon.”

“Yes.” He hisses, impatience mingling with joy in his eyes and he gives you a look of ecstatic need.

You speed up the movements of your hand, fingers teasing his flesh, dragging up and down the slickness of his cock. Gwilym’s thrusts have tensed the slightest bit, and you can see him gritting his teeth, inhaling shakily like a smoker who has taken their first drag of the day, before his whole body shudders and he comes in your hand with a wordless cry, biting down on the soft skin of your neck to muffle himself.

His breath comes in pants and you can feel the flutter of his heart beat as he looks at you with a dazed gaze.

“Happy Christmas,” you say, giggling a little at your boyfriends expression.

“Nadolig Llawen,” Gwilym returns, his voice laden with sex and a lascivious smirk upon his face, “Lemme give you your gift now.”


End file.
